Not worth it

People are not worth trusting. They all lie, every single last person, I hate it so much. I wish I could just find some place to be alone. Some place where no one can hurt me but myself.

Where it is safe to be me and just simmer in my pain. But I can’t, I have responsibilities that make it so I have to stay here. So I go on pretending that everything is ok when it is not. I get my hopes up only to be shot down in the end.

I hate people. I hate people so much and I hate myself most of all.

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Cut and Burn

It burns inside.

The urge to do some harm to a vital part of me.

All the while screaming for some form of release.

‘Someone fucking save me from this hell.’

Yet I know no one will.

I am all alone with a dull blade.

Ready to cut but can’t seem to figure out where.

I want it to hurt

I need it to hurt

I can feel it before I start to slice.

Take awhile to get things right.

Decided to just push with all my might

Since I made them hide the good knives.

Tiles floors splattered red

Favorite place cause the walls always stare

I like to think that this is the only room that care

It burns inside of me now

The urge to cut till I am there

Holding a dull blade against my vitals

Screaming for some release

‘You had your chance to fucking save me’

Though I know no one is there

A cut that is quickly fading

The door tells me what a good girl I am

Pulled By The Darkness

Newest story by me. 

I am on a short story and this is the first time things have actually gone well for. I am making good progress, and am nearly done with the part that can be read in the anthology. 

The anthology being the one I want to submit my work to. I have to get things done quickly so that I have chance if being accepted. I am just super excited and happy about this story. 
It is about a little girl who must figure out who she was and why she was created. There is a group of people who have kept her pretty shelted since all her life. Despite her age, she is really innocent. She sees the harshness in life but still just goes through the motions. Not really noticing much unless it  happens to her directly. She is pretty nuch your average kid. But there is something that makes her different from the rest. She can’t age at all. She is forever stuck in the body of a young girl. 

She doesn’t question why bit eventually events starts to occure that make her question what is truly normal for all. 
There is more to thus but I came about this idea from a picture I found online.

I love this picture and the words with it cause it fits. I often push people away because I feel that I am not worth the risk. That no matter what, people will leave. 

This reached me and I wanted to write a story for this picture. This girl is so inncent yet she knows the cruelness og this world. She is not yet jaded enough to fear it. She still believes that it can be saved. She is a scared tiny girl. I do not want her to grow up. I want this innocence to stay with her throughout this story. I want her to be unfazed by the darkness but still bask in the light. 

She will be my neutral ground. 

 

Not My Problem

Do not judge me

I gave up 

I become what they wanted

A body covered in cuts.

We are told that suicide is wrong. That is it the failures way out. I once read a story where of someone attempted suicide they where shipped to an island with other people who failed. There there were no rules and they could either try again or live how they pleased. 

Their records were deleted and their families told they died. I am not sure how the goverment in this book got away with not having to show the body, but they did. 

So on this small island some people did decide to take their lives while other vowed to keep going. 

It was a strange story. As you may assume all hell broke lose until rules were in place. Rape, murder, theft, just your basic chaos happened till they devised their own goverment of sorts. 

Not going to lie, I didn’t get that far into this series. Once I was assured people would try to find some meaning to life I stopped. 

Interesting that this is the part I stopped at. I guess I could have read on once the more darker stuff had passed….but I didn’t.  

I have read two variations to this story. One was a manga and they other a adult novel. Both times I stopped reading once life reached some sort of order. 

I don’t delude myself into thinking it would be perfect. Instead I choose to never give it a chance. I didn’t try to see if it would get better because what was right in front of me only seemed to be getting worse. 

In these books order was found but I just knew that it would change quickly. I knew that someone would grow bored of that life and try to start problems again. What else can happen when you put a bunch of emotional people in the same room. Even if everyone is getting along there will always be that one person who craves chaos. Who has this hidden bloodlust that they can’t get rid off. 
So I stop.

I stop reading and instead give up on the series. I see the dark past and have an understanding of the future. I expect change but it is not the change I believe can help me. 

People might think I am strange for that. They might tell me that I need to stick around and let the story finish. That giving up before I can truly reach the ending it not giving the author credit. But I, as the reader, hold all the power. 

In a story filled with violence, I can choose when it will end. 
So when people look to suicide I do not see what they see. They find a failure, a victem, I see a person who took their life into their own hands. Yes they have left so much behind but they are finally free…at least…that is what they think. 
Now despite this understanding I do not believe that peoppe should harm themselves. I do believe that people should preserve. Giving up on a silly book is easy, but giving in to life is a whole other story. 

We readers hold the power. Our story may be filled with pain. We may not hold all the answers on how it could change. We may not be alone in our suffering. We could be sitting on an island surrounded by people who hate just like us. Emotional husk, beings left to rot. We may have tried to end our lives in the past and have it being held against us but we still hold the power. 

Change may not happen fast enough. Somewhere along the lines there will be thay one person trying to fuck it all up. But we, dear reader, will try our hardest to go on. Not just for ourselves but for those around us who also need a reason to go on. 

Do not ever think you are alone. Do not ever think that you are not worth it. We may not have the lives of writers but as readers we are still so very strong. So very very important. Because without us there is no them. Without us they world would be an even more crueler place.
I understand death. 

I understand wanting to shut the book and call it a day. 

I understand giving up.

I understand it all. 

Without those who suffer this world would not understand.
But fuck me !it isn’t fair! It isn’t fair that people must feel pain so the rest of the world can learn something called empathy and understanding. 
I once read a story where people were forced to live on an island after they tried to kill themselves. Their loved ones were told theu succeeded. Some were probably forgotten whole other remembered often. On this island people died, people were raped, people suffered. Forced to live a life they didn’t want just so they could teach others a lesson. 

It isn’t fair at all. 

I stopped reading that book once things started going good. I didn’t want to see people come along and try to break what was once broken. I didn’t want to see as they healed from their wounds and try again. I didn’t want to see them be happy, for others to try stop them. 

Instead I focused in them surviving. 

Cause in the end…no matter what they decided..they did all they could to make their life theres. 
How unfair is that? 

Murder, She wrote

I often find myself reading psychological books where people are forced to face some past demon. Maybe they were abused growing up or they witnessed something they shouldn’t have. Maybe they had a moment of weakness and it cost someone their life. I love this type of stories because they can bring me comfort or even force me to see things. When I see them I also get to read about how people overcame these obstacles and found something close to happiness.

Funny thing is that sometimes the main character may have to go seek professional help. They are diagnosed and if you, like me, love looking up mental illness, you can sometimes can an “Ah yep understandable” moment.

I recently had one where a man was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.  In the story I read he was hurt as a child by his father and also watched as his father killed another little boy. His life was full of abuse even as he reached adulthood yet his quirks seemed so familiar to me. They were much like my own that before I even got to the chapter where he was diagnosed I started to question things.

He has this urge to paint, to tell his story. To finally undo this lie he was forced to keep. If he didn’t paint he would basically escape into himself and a ‘monster’ would take over. When that happened people were hurt bad.

The story was pretty much talking about his journey with overcoming it all and being able to love someone.  This was a psychological romance (m/m cause a duh) that left me crying.

It touched on things I have never even told my therapist for fear they would find me an unfit parent. How there are times when I feel like someone is watching me. They are so very angry. I know exactly who they are but I can’t tell anyone. Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I can hear them talking (it is usually only one…or at least it has been since my daughter was born)

I know who she is and I know that with time I won’t feel her presence anymore.

I don’t know why it took a fictional book to help me realize that what I am going through is normal. I am pretty sure most would question my already fading sanity levels if I had told them.

But it is true. This book helped me a lot. I will probably never be as brave as this fictional character.  I will probably never have the type of love that they received either. Nor will I get the kind of support and dedication that I need to make it through this life as they did. I am not alone though.

Reading has always been something that saved me. I could focus on someone elses trouble for a while. My life isn’t perfect at all but it is my life. It may not make sense to believe this book helped me despite me writing as though I am helpless towards my future. I mean I do not think I have a future but this book did help me. I am not alone in what I feel.

My life isn’t some written fiction someone made up. I may not have the perfect ending to it but it is mine. In time my thoughts could change. But just knowing that I am not alone brings me a world of comfort.
There she follows

To and fro

A little girl I forget to know

Shackled to a hurtful past

She haunt my conscience so the pain will last

I regret the cause that brought her near

Regret the dreams I have grown to fear

The little girl who cases

To and fro

The little girl who won’t leave me alone

So I write her story

I write her song

I write all the way I have done her wrong

So that she may go to sleep another day

Until she is once again ready to play

*****************************************

The book that made me feel this way can be found here (via author website. She has a lot of other books that deal with some tough issues)

Or directly on amazon here

She is an amazing writer so check her out if you like m/m novels.

In the end I say hello

A dull blade to past the time. 

Don’t worry sinner, I won’t take something that isn’t mine. I know my place at the holy gate. I know that death is a welcomed fate. Yet I can’t imagine how you must feel. Me looking down on you as you choose to do what you will. And here I got shit for giving you free will. 

Yet still I lend a helping hand. Sure it is not always welcomed but in the end, does it matter?

You will come into my light eventually. So what if you suffer a bit. So what if your life is full of pain. I mean, come on, to see me is a win-win. 

A dull blade to past the time.

Crusted blood on tile floors that used to shine. I know you feel bad and you want to end but don’t you know giving up is a sin. 

It sort of sucks if you think about it though. I give you a life yet make it hard to bear. Give you choices upon choices but never will tell you the right  one to make.  So you shuffle through life thinking you are mistake. The one clause given to make it all go away is the very one you can’t even take. Instead I give you sin to test your love. I give you people around you who have the free will to judge. 

I stamp title on your body so people can see. Sure I love you and in the end you’ll have me. But till then stay where you are. It will be ok, I mean maybe…maybe not. In time it will be ok.

A dull blade to pass the time. 

So fondle your blade slowly with tears sliding down your face. I will not take it from you because it is not my place. Instead I will stand here at the holy gate and wait. Wait till the life I made you takes control and ends you or someone else steps up to the plate. 

I am the only one who cares in the end anyways. 

A Petty Poet Poem Production.

Spaceships

Hello, I have BPD and it does define me. I refuse to lie and say it doesn’t.  I have anxiety and I have depression. I have mood swings out the ass, and there are moments when burning down a building full of people I hate sounds like a really good idea.

I can’t stand loud noises unless I make them. I jump to conclusion quickly but I also like to take time to think about what is going on. I feel to much at a time. Though there are times I feel nothing at all. My anger isn’t like yours. Something so small can make me feel like John Wick after someone killed my dog. I will hunt you down and I destroy every thing you love dearly. I will not only destroy that but I will make sure everyone knows what kind of monster you all. Nothing will be held back.

My happiness isn’t like yours. The smallest thing can make me smile for hours on end. You can tell me someone called you a bitch and I will still smile like it is the best thing ever.

My sadness isn’t like yours. When I am sad I  am dead inside. I feel nothing but that pain and it will spiral. Know how people joke about how girls will bring up stuff that happened years ago in an argument? Well imagine that happening all the time. When I get sad every bad thing comes to mind. Stuff I did as a kid is suddenly brought up in my head.  I will beat myself up over it and hate myself anew. I will contemplate suicide in a dark room. I will pretend that I am ok but I am not. I will smile amd make jokes, but instead be making up the seating arrangements for my funeral. Who will say what and when. Who will lie and say they love me and who won’t even show up. Don’t worry I have always known how my funeral will look, only the music changes with each reimage.
My emotions are not like others. They are to high. Ever got a song stuck in your head? How the tempo seems to go faster and faster. Louder and louder till you feel a snap! That is my life. My every day unless I go numb.
That is my Borderline Personality Disorder.
It hurts to sleep sometimes.

I can’t build relationships cause I either trust to much or to little. One minute I will love a person and the next they are satans midwife. Giving birth to a new evil who will take over this world instead of killing it when they had the chance.

I have BPD and it defines me. It is who I am but I try to not let it control me. Do not forget is there though. Do not try to wish it away. It won’t magically go away so learn about it and understand who I am. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. This is me…